Stepping Up
by sasha1600
Summary: Tag to Last Man Standing.  Tim can't stop thinking about what Gibbs said.  Warning: spanking of adult.  Don't like?  Don't read!
1. Chapter 1

**Stepping Up**

**Summary:** Tag to Last Man Standing. Tim can't stop thinking about what Gibbs said. **Warning:** spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I just play with them.

* * *

><p>AN: This is part of my 'Lessons' series and builds on a larger plot arc. This contains the disciplinary spanking of an adult. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.

* * *

><p>Tim took a deep breath and got out of his car, moving quickly before he changed his mind.<p>

He must be crazy, he thought, climbing the familiar porch steps and opening the door with a perfunctory knock. Gibbs never locked it, and he'd been told often enough to just walk in, but he'd never been entirely comfortable doing that. It wasn't just that he'd always had a hard time believing that he really was included in the 'family' that was always welcome. He also doubted the wisdom of surprising a Marine by appearing, unannounced, in his basement.

'Boss?' he called out, heading towards the rectangle of light spilling from the doorway at the top of the basement stairs. Passing the kitchen, he noticed a wooden spoon drying on a draining board next to the sink. He shuddered, wondering if it was the same one that had left such a memorable impression on his butt.

He _really_ must be crazy, he told himself as he started down the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs looked up from his sanding, pleased, and a bit surprised, to see Tim. He'd scolded the younger man earlier, and that usually made Tim self-conscious and insecure. For Tim to seek him out, rather than try to avoid him, was a definite improvement in their relationship, and one he wanted to encourage.

'Good. I could use some help. Even got some left-handed sandpaper for you,' he said with a smirk.

'Left-handed sandpaper?' Tim asked, a look of confusion on his face, before catching on to the joke. He gave a little laugh, blushing furiously.

'You want a drink?' he offered, gesturing towards the bottle of bourbon on the workbench. 'There's beer in the fridge, if you...'

'No. Uh... thanks. Boss...'

Gibbs heard the uncertainty in Tim's voice.

'What is it, Tim?' he asked gently.

'You were right.'

_Well, that clears things up_, he thought.

'About what?'

'Earlier. When you said... when you said I should have told you what Vance had me doing. When you said I would have. Before.'

He nodded brusquely, acknowledging the implied apology.

'And...'

Tim ground to a halt, hesitating and taking several deep breaths. Gibbs waited, not sure if encouraging him would make him open up or silence him.

'And... and I want... I need...'

He was visibly shaking now. Gibbs dropped the sandpaper onto the half-finished boat and turned fully towards him, resting one hand lightly on his shoulder.

'Tim?'

'IneedyoutopunishmeBoss.'

It took him a moment to parse the mumbled sentence, and another moment to convince himself that he'd heard correctly. He brought his other hand up so he was holding both shoulders, squeezing gently.

'Ok.'

Tim's eyes widened slightly and he swallowed hard. It was obvious that he'd been half-hoping that he'd refuse – he wanted the absolution, but he'd also scared himself half-senseless by asking for it.

Gibbs was damn proud of the younger man. He knew from experience how hard it was to _ask_ for a spanking, and Tim was doing it for the first time. And the next few minutes weren't going to be any easier.

'But you were right, too, Tim. You weren't working for me. I can't punish you as your boss.'

There was a flash of relief, and confusion, in Tim's eyes, and then he looked down at the ground.

'No, look at me,' he prompted, waiting for Tim to make eye contact again before continuing.

'If I punish you, it will be personal. It will be because _you_ didn't tell _me_. Not because you didn't tell your _boss_. Do you understand?'

Tim nodded sceptically, clearly wondering what difference it made.

'Are you ok with that?'

Tim nodded again.

Gibbs shifted his grip on him, propelling him around the boat towards a battered old couch against the far wall. Giving Tim more time to think about it would just make it harder for him; the kindest thing he could do, was get it over quickly. He sat down, then tugged gently on Tim's hand, guiding him over his knees.

The intensely personal punishment was intended to send an unmistakeable message that this wasn't about work. Tony had balked when he'd done the same thing with him, resisting the affection more than the discipline. Tim's eyes widened in surprise but, unlike Tony, he didn't protest. He hesitated only momentarily, trying to work out how to manoeuvre an adult-sized body into a position he hadn't been in since childhood, then settled easily over his lap. Gibbs wrapped one arm around his waist, more for balance than restraint, then brought his hand down hard on his ass.

Tim hissed sharply through his teeth, but didn't struggle.

Gibbs spanked him hard and fast. Tim seemed determined to take his punishment quietly, but he had no intention of stopping until he was in tears. If Tim felt that he needed to be punished, then he needed to _feel_ he had been punished. His palm was stinging, but he kept going. Finally hearing a quiet sob, he shifted his target to the younger man's thighs, spanking him again and again.

Tim was crying hard when he finally ended the flurry of hard swats. He shifted him gently so he was kneeling on the thick rug at his feet, pulling his head towards him. Tim buried his face against him. Gibbs held him until was sniffling quietly, then released him long enough to reach over and grab a box of tissues. Tim took one gratefully, blowing his nose and wiping his eyes.

'Better?'

'Yeah, Boss. Uh... thanks.'

Gibbs gathered him into a one-armed hug, brushing his damp hair back from his eyes. They both knew that neither of them was talking about the tissues.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim's breathing gradually returned to normal. His ass hurt like hell, and, as much as he appreciated the comfort Gibbs was offering him, his knees were getting sore. He considered moving up onto the couch next to his boss, but sitting was really unattractive at the moment so, reluctantly, he pulled away from the embrace and staggered stiffly to his feet.

His mind was racing, still trying to process the punishment he'd just received at his mentor's hands.

Gibbs had taken him over his knee in the same way that his father had done after his more spectacular childhood misadventures. However insecure he was about his place in Gibbs's 'family,' there could be no mistaking the message that he did _not_ see him as just another subordinate at work.

And, unlike every other spanking he'd delivered, Gibbs had used his bare hand. To his dismay, it hadn't hurt any less – the disadvantage of all that boat-building, he thought ruefully. But it had certainly emphasised the fact that this time, it was personal.

And he hadn't even begun to figure out what it meant that he had _asked_ Gibbs to spank him. And that he felt better than he had for weeks, even though he was already dreading having to sit at his desk the next day.

He hadn't been this confused by a punishment since the first time that Gibbs had whipped him. He'd known the guilt would have kept him awake if he didn't talk to Gibbs tonight; he hadn't expected to lie awake thinking about the spanking.

Already dreading the drive home, he tried to say goodnight, only to be met with a raised eyebrow and a hand on his shoulder. He found himself being steered up the stairs and towards the spare room.

His momentary relief at not having to sit in a car quickly turned to dismay – he had a fresh batch of after-spanking cream waiting in his refrigerator, an icepack in his freezer, and painkillers and a glass set out on the counter. He'd prepared carefully.

For everything except being grounded as well as spanked, he thought with a sigh.


End file.
